


Love is Love is Love

by SocksAreArgyle



Category: 30歳まで童貞だと魔法使いになれるらしい | Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, During Canon, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:35:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28749345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocksAreArgyle/pseuds/SocksAreArgyle
Summary: Of course he would.  Of course Adachi was going to say yes.It all felt so fast, so sudden, but it felt so right.
Relationships: Adachi Kiyoshi/Kurosawa Yuichi
Comments: 30
Kudos: 255





	Love is Love is Love

The first time Kurosawa thinks about Adachi like that, he’s been in love with his coworker for a couple of weeks. It’s his day off tomorrow, and he’s letting himself be lazy and get a little tipsy. He was going to have just a couple glasses of wine, but as the cheesy romance drama flickered on his television, he found himself pouring a third.

While a hangover wasn’t ideal, he can at least sleep it off all day. However, he’s more worried about his current predicament. His mind keeps wandering.

As he watches the love interests interact on screen, he can’t help picturing himself and Adachi in such a scenario. It sends his heart fluttering, and he tries to calm it with another sip from his glass. He often tries to ignore such shows because of this reason, but he’d finished all his reading material for the night and really had nothing else to do. It was all too enticing when he flipped through the channels.

Third glass down, pouring a fourth, he eyes the television intently as the two protagonists finally confess to one another. It’s very dramatic; his back is pressed up to the wall, she’s grabbing at the front of his shirt and staring up at him with tears in her eyes. They kiss, and Kurosawa bites the inside of his cheek. 

His vision is fuzzy as he watches the two characters stumble into the apartment, their mouths barely parting, before falling into the bed just off screen. Kurosawa takes another swig.

The next scene is a mess of sheets basked in soft morning light, and soon reveals the two lovers curled up in bed together. He’s got his nose buried in her hair, his arms wrapped around her waist, and she sighs. Kurosawa is out of wine.

He glances at the bottle on the table. There’s still a bit left, but his head is swimming and he loathes the idea of standing up. Still, he shifts enough in his seat to reach for the bottle without getting completely woozy, and suddenly he’s made aware of a new issue. The drama becomes white noise, the flickering screen an annoyance, and his nerves begin to tingle in his fingers and toes.

He’s hard.

Very hard.

It occurs to him that the image of the two protagonists has morphed into one of himself and Adachi, and he lets out this pathetic little whimper. He’d be more embarrassed about it if he wasn’t currently shit-faced. He simply slumps back against the couch and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will away such nefarious thoughts, but now all he can see is Adachi spread out on his sheets, bashfully staring up at him, blushing down to his chest. He shouldn’t have had all that wine.

Kurosawa groans inwardly, chiding himself for thinking something so private, so personal, about his coworker. Even still, his addled brain doesn’t stop his hand from reaching to the front of his sweatpants. He lets out a heavy sigh as he presses the flat of his palm to his erection, going nearly limp in his seat. 

He wonders what Adachi would be like in bed. Did he have much experience? Did he prefer one position over another? Did he like oral sex? Giving or receiving? Was he one to take charge, or be more submissive like he is in the office? What does his mouth taste like? What does he look like when he comes? Has anyone ever made love to him?

Kurosawa whines, brow furrowing as he squeezes his dick through his sweats. He’s hard enough that it nearly hurts, and he feels like a fresh university student again, all hormones and pent-up desire. He so badly wants to stop, to go take a cold shower, to calm down and move on, but the Adachi in his mind is shyly spreading his legs and Kurosawa loses all willpower.

He yanks his sweatpants down enough to fish his dick out of his boxers and squeeze lightly at the base. He groans quietly, mouth falling open as he begins to stroke himself. This felt more than inappropriate, but he’s so in love with this man and so inebriated by alcohol and feels so good that there’s no way he can stop now.

There’s so many things he wants to do to Adachi, that he wants to do _with_ Adachi, but for now he tries to focus on one. With a firm twist of his wrist, Kurosawa pictures Adachi on his knees between his legs. He stares up at him bashfully, eyes wide but desperate, full of desire. The imagined Adachi grabs at Kurosawa’s thighs, pushing them apart, then leans forward and licks the head of his cock.

Kurosawa keens and rubs the pad of his thumb across his slit, mirroring his imagination, and smears a small bead of precome around the head. Adachi’s mouth would look so pretty stretched around him, he thinks, and he wishes he could thread his fingers through Adachi’s hair to keep him there. 

With a rough few strokes, Kurosawa pictures Adachi bobbing his head along his cock, taking him in so well and so deep, so deep that he’s got tears in his eyes and his cheeks are red and he’s gasping, but not willing to stop. Kurosawa moans before pressing the back of his free hand to his mouth. He was already breaking some silent rules by doing this, so he didn’t feel he was worthy of so vehemently enjoying it.

It feels so good, though, and he can only imagine how amazing the real thing would be. His fist is hardly a replacement for Adachi’s lips and tongue, but it’ll have to do for now. It doesn’t matter, anyway, as he already feels himself teetering on the edge of orgasm as he thinks about Adachi there, head between his legs, and one of his hands grabbing at his own crotch, touching himself as he pleasures Kurosawa with his tongue.

What sends him over is the image of Adachi leaning back on his heels, lips red and covered in spit, and a white streak of come trailing down his chin. He’s grinning at Kurosawa, pleased with himself, and Kurosawa whines helplessly as he spills over his fist and onto his pants.

He sleeps off the hangover and the incident, nearly forgetting it in the haze of red wine, only for it to be thrust back in his face when he returns to work and sees Adachi stroll in with his bedhead. Kurosawa feels his face go red, and he ducks his head into some random paperwork and hopes nobody notices his fluster.

* * *

The first time Adachi thinks about Kurosawa like that, he’s had his magic for barely three weeks. It hasn’t been long, but it’s more than enough time to understand just how Kurosawa feels about him, and more than enough incidents to understand it’s not only romantic attraction. 

It had startled him. Not really in the sense that they were both men, but more so because it was _Kurosawa_. Kurosawa, the pride of their department, the man every woman in a ten block radius fell in love with, the man who exuded confidence and sexiness with every breath, the exact opposite of Adachi. The fact that Kurosawa was in love with him, that he was imagining being intimate with him, had Adachi’s mind reeling.

He was coming to terms with the fact that he likes his coworker in return, but it was still so foreign. He’d been interested in other people before, but nobody had ever truly returned the sentiment.

Adachi is laying in bed on his side, clutching a pillow to his chest and staring into the middle distance as his mind wanders. If he was being honest, it scared him a little that someone was so attracted to him, and it scared him even more that he was developing feelings in return. Sure, it felt nice to be loved, but he just didn’t know what to do about it. It really didn’t help that he had every detail of Kurosawa’s attraction literally at his fingertips. It was overwhelming, to say the least.

Right now, all he can think about is the night he spent at Kurosawa’s place. The perfectly-fitting pajamas were a little strange, and seeing Kurosawa’s perception of him coming out of the bath was a bit of a shock, but now it all feels so soft. His heart beats a little faster and he buries his face into his pillow, trying to suppress the urge to smile, even a little bit. He feels like a giddy teenager, giggling into his pillow as he thinks about the way Kurosawa’s eyes crinkle when he smiles, always so bright. 

He thinks about how serious Kurosawa looks when he’s listening to him speak, how focused his gaze is. Adachi, not being one for prolonged eye contact, always gets a little squirmy in those situations, but he doesn’t feel any need to hide himself. There’s never any judgement in Kurosawa’s eyes, just pure, open honestly and adoration. Adachi’s heart somersaults.

How could that man find Adachi so attractive? _Cute_ was a word that Adachi caught crossing Kurosawa’s mind fairly often, and it makes him blush again. Could a thirty-year-old man really be cute? He can’t really question it, he thinks, because he’s certainly looked at Kurosawa and thought _cute_ was the perfect descriptor.

There were lots of adjectives he could use to describe Kurosawa. Cute, handsome, beautiful, charming, sexy. Sexy when he quirks his brow while listening to Adachi gather up his scattered thoughts; sexy when he leans over Adachi’s shoulder to look over paperwork in the office; sexy when he takes a folder from Adachi’s hands and lets their fingertips touch; sexy when he becomes sincere and drops his voice, low and quiet, so only Adachi can hear.

Again, Adachi burrows into his pillow, this time squeezing his thighs together as well. He feels warm, and he remembers the feeling of Kurosawa’s breath on the shell of his ear, his voice rumbling in his chest. He could even make sales statistics sound sexy like that. Adachi whines and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to force his mind away from there, but the damage has already been done.

He shifts his thighs together and lets out a soft sigh. He hadn’t even bothered to change out of his slacks, and now they were a little tight. He blushes and groans into the pillow. How embarrassing, he thinks, even knowing Kurosawa has thought about him like this as well.

Rather than try to fight this losing battle, Adachi removes one hand from his pillow to slip down his waist. He fumbles a little with undoing the button and fly, cursing under his breath as his fingers shake. The relief comes soon enough, though, and he rolls his palm over his half-hard cock in his underwear. He sighs pleasantly and lets his eyes fall shut as he rubs at himself through his briefs till he’s fully hard.

It feels strange, to be picturing Kurosawa as he masturbates, but it only makes him hotter. Maybe he did really like his coworker. Maybe he did really want to be in a relationship with him. He whines breathlessly and tugs down the waistband so he can finger the head of his cock gently. His hips twitch up into the light touch, and he rubs his thumb just under the crown, making himself let out a high, shaky moan.

Suddenly he imagines what Kurosawa would do if he could hear him like this. It makes his hips twitch again, brow furrowing as he grips the pillow closer to his chest. Kurosawa’s fingers were so long, Adachi wonders how different they would feel against his skin as compared to his own. Kurosawa’s touch was always so gentle, would he be the same in bed? Adachi sighs softly and tugs a few loose strokes up his erection. 

Kurosawa was always quick to dish out praise at work, and even if Adachi didn’t want to take credit for it most of the time, Kurosawa was always sincere. Would he do the same outside of work? Adachi whimpers at the thought, and he can almost feel Kurosawa’s breath against his ear.

 _‘You look so cute, Adachi,’_ says the figment of his imagination, _‘You look so good like this.’_

Adachi whines loudly, though it’s kept mostly muffled by his pillow, which he shoves his face deeper into. He didn’t particularly seek out praise, so he’s a little bit surprised by his body’s reaction to such words, even imagined. Now he’s gripping his dick tight, pulling out fast, rough strokes that make his toes curl in his socks. The Kurosawa in his mind is still behind him, chin tucked over his shoulder, murmuring soft words into his ear, and he’s dangerously close to coming all over his sheets.

 _‘Adachi, you feel so good… so hot,’_ the imagined Kurosawa sighs, and Adachi’s breath catches in his throat. Kurosawa always made him feel important, made him feel even the slightest bit more confident, and was now making sparks dance under his skin. _‘I want to make you feel good, darling.’_

That does it.

Adachi whimpers and moans and gasps into his pillow, eyes screwed shut and toes curling enough to hurt as he strokes himself through his orgasm. His fingers are slick, and every brush against the pillow reminds him that he’s going to have to do laundry twice this week, but he feels so good that he doesn’t even care.

He has to pull out an old pair of pants to wear to work the next day, and they’re just a little too small on him. He tries to ignore it, and it mostly works because he’s too busy trying to hide his face every time Kurosawa walks by. He feels guilty about it, almost ashamed, like he’s overstepped a huge boundary between the two of them, but later that day he catches Kurosawa thinking about him in a way that’s more than a little suggestive. It involves pants that are a little too tight and a backside that’s far more pronounced than usual.

* * *

“Will you… please be with me forever?”

Of course he would. Of course Adachi was going to say yes.

It all felt so fast, so sudden, but it felt so _right._

Kurosawa was correct, he would be embarrassed to wear a ring. Kurosawa already knows him so well. Adachi hopes one day he’ll have the courage to wear one anyway.

Even if it didn’t go quite as planned, even if their hearts still ached, it was the perfect first date. Adachi made a mental note to thank Fujisaki-san and Rokkaku once they were all back at work, but for now, all he was focused on was Kurosawa. He couldn’t bear to break his heart, he couldn’t bear being so selfish.

Kurosawa loved Adachi, and Adachi loved Kurosawa.

Adachi would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little nervous as the night drew to a close. After the impromptu fireworks show and a stop at an easy restaurant for some hot food, they were back at Kurosawa’s apartment. 

It’s almost as clean as his other visits, aside from a few extra empty bags of junk food and some manga spread out on the coffee table. It reminds Adachi of Kurosawa’s pain, of their shared pain, when he decided to end things between them hardly a week ago. That guilt is quashed, though, when Kurosawa helps him remove his coat and hangs it beside his own at the door. He even takes a moment to take their matching fountain pens out of their pockets and set them on the table side by side. Kurosawa is looking upon him with so much love that Adachi finds himself glued to the spot.

“Adachi?” Kurosawa asks with an amused quirk of his brow.

Adachi hums and looks away bashfully, biting at his cheek to keep from smiling so much. “It—It’s nothing,” he mumbles.

Instead of press him further, Kurosawa takes his hand and leads him deeper into the apartment, switching on the lights as he does so. While their fingers are linked, Adachi picks up on Kurosawa’s thoughts, and doesn’t try to pull away this time.

 _‘I’m so nervous,’_ Kurosawa’s voice echoes in his mind. Adachi bites back a smile. That makes two of them.

“I… I am, too,” Adachi murmurs, drawing Kurosawa’s eyes back to his. Confusion flashes across his features briefly, before he remembers Adachi’s magic, and he smiles shyly. Adachi is momentarily stunned into silence by how his eyes crinkle handsomely at the corners, but stammers out more words when Kurosawa squeezes his hand. “B—but, I’m also happy.” Adachi doesn’t want anymore uncertainty between them.

Kurosawa’s smile grows, and he glances down at the floor as blush rises in his cheeks. “I am, too,” he agrees, before stepping closer to Adachi again. It leaves just barely any breathing room between them, but Adachi doesn’t feel any discomfort.

Adachi was more than happy to let Kurosawa lead things along slowly when they first got together. Even though Adachi had no experience with relationships and expected to be mocked for it, that never seemed to cross Kurosawa’s mind. He was so patient, so attentive, it still makes Adachi’s heart clench. He wants Kurosawa to think of himself sometimes, too. Adachi hopes he can be that person for him.

Slow is what Adachi needs, patience is the best thing he could ask for. Even so, as they stand here now, he craves more of Kurosawa’s touch. He wants to hold his hand, to receive one of his lung-crushing hugs, to feel his hand cradle the back of his head. He wants to kiss Kurosawa, for real this time.

In that moment, Kurosawa’s eyes flick down to Adachi’s lips. It’s only for a fraction of a second, but Adachi catches it regardless. It sets off butterflies in his stomach.

Kurosawa’s mouth opens, closes, then opens again, trying to find his words. There’s not even any words in his mind, none coherent at least, and Adachi tries not to laugh at his adorable floundering. It still shocks Adachi that Kurosawa is this desperate for him, this badly in love with him. The only thing in Kurosawa’s mind right now is the thought of kissing Adachi over and over again.

“Adachi,” Kurosawa finally chokes out, holding tightly onto Adachi’s hand, “I…”

 _‘Cute,’_ Adachi thinks, and he bites his lip around a smile. Again, Kurosawa’s eyes flick downward, but quickly meet his gaze again. “Kurosawa,” Adachi says in return, and the part of him that wants to be suave thinks that kissing Kurosawa right now would be perfectly fitting, but his nerves keep chewing at his chest.

Kurosawa clears his throat, and Adachi watches as his tongue slips out briefly to wet his lips. It’s all too obvious that Kurosawa notices, because his mind flashes an image of the two of them making out, and they both flush bright red. Kurosawa clears his throat again and he squeezes Adachi’s hand.

“Adachi,” he nearly whispers, and his voice cracks just a little. Adachi hums questioningly and nods his head. “Can… can I…?” Kurosawa starts to ask, then lets out a sharp sigh. 

Adachi catches the words, _‘Just say it,’_ in his mind, but doesn’t mention it.

Instead, he watches as Kurosawa glances down at the floor between their feet again, shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath, then finally looks back up at his partner. “Can I kiss you?”

Even though it was the exact question he expected, Adachi feels himself fluster. He forces himself to keep looking at Kurosawa, though, despite how his immediate reaction is to look away, to pull away, to flee. He doesn’t want to, though. He wants this, he _knows_ he wants this, and Kurosawa wants it just as much.

Adachi curtly nods his head and hums. Kurosawa’s breath catches in his throat, and Adachi can just hear a chorus of, _‘Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,’_ bouncing around in his mind. Even still, Kurosawa doesn’t lean in. Excited nerves are still bouncing around in his head, eyes wide and a smile tugging at his cheeks, but still hesitating.

Adachi huffs amusedly, and finally lets his newly blooming self-confidence take the reins.

He leans forward and up, just slightly, till their lips meet. Kurosawa goes completely still, eyes wide, heart pounding in his chest so loudly that Adachi is bound to hear it. He stares down at his partner, eyes going a little crossed as he studies the way Adachi’s eyelashes leave soft shadows on his cheeks.

Kurosawa finally relaxes and lets his eyes slip shut. He hums happily, tilting his head to let their mouths better slot together, and lifts a hand to the nape of Adachi’s neck. At their waists, their other hands are still squeezed together tightly, knuckles white. 

Adachi feels like the fireworks from earlier are going off inside his chest. The kiss feels almost electric, and it’s probably the most chaste kiss Kurosawa has ever received. Even so, Kurosawa is melting against him, so happy to finally have this moment, so happy to be the one to give Adachi his first kiss. Adachi’s heart is racing, beating just as loud as Kurosawa’s.

Neither of them want it to end, but Kurosawa pulls away to simply rest their foreheads together, so they can stare at each other.

They let the silence wash over them, but soon they begin to smile, and eventually they devolve into a fit of giggles. Overwhelmed with feelings, most predominantly happiness, relief, love, they finally let go of all those pent up nerves, the excitement, the tension of waiting for this moment to come.

 _‘I love you, Adachi,’_ Kurosawa thinks, and Adachi smiles wider than he thinks he ever has before.

“I love you, too.”

* * *

Kurosawa’s bedroom is just as neat and tidy as the rest of his apartment, but there’s a few more endearing personal touches. He’s got a few random articles of laundry thrown onto a chair, which he hurriedly tries to hide despite Adachi assuring him he doesn’t mind, and he’s got a few photos pinned up around a mirror on the wall. Adachi recognizes his sister in a couple of them, as well as Rokkaku in another. He wonders what picture of him will end up there someday.

“Here,” Kurosawa says, drawing Adachi out of his reverie. He’s holding out a pair of sweatpants and a white tee-shirt. “You can wear these to bed. Sorry, they might be a little big.” Adachi ponders where the pajamas he’d slept in last time might be, but wonders if the answer would hurt, so he doesn’t ask.

“Thank you,” he murmurs as he takes them, but he just watches as Kurosawa turns to tidy up his dresser and shut the drawers again.

It had been proven to him that Kurosawa wasn’t one to force himself onto others, in a sexual sense, but Adachi was still expecting him to ask about it. The sleepwear seems like a solid clue that nothing may happen tonight, but Adachi is feeling confident, despite the nervousness that comes with having your first sexual experience.

When Kurosawa notices Adachi still standing there where he’d left him, he furrows his brow and cocks his head. “What is it?” he asks, and Adachi tries to swallow his nerves.

“Ah, um… nothing,” he says curtly, shaking his head.

Kurosawa smiles crookedly and steps closer. “Adachi, you can tell me what you’re thinking,” he murmurs, before reaching out to gently touch his forearm. He loudly thinks the word, _‘Please,’_ and watches closely as Adachi stills and looks up at him. If Adachi can tell what Kurosawa is thinking, it’s only fair for him to share his thoughts with Kurosawa in return.

Adachi shifts nervously and glances down at their feet. “I… I just thought you would, you know…” he mumbles, and Kurosawa leans his head down to catch his eye, silently urging Adachi to continue. “I thought that… I thought that when I woke up tomorrow, I wouldn’t have my magic anymore,” Adachi says, refusing to make eye contact with Kurosawa for fear that he’d implode from the embarrassment.

Kurosawa goes silent and stiff as a board, but his fingers are still resting on Adachi’s forearm, giving him perfect access to his thoughts. Like earlier, there’s not many coherent words that Adachi can gather, but rather a lot of _feelings._ Surprise, wonder, excitement, anxiety, giddiness. Mostly, it’s like his mind is trying to catch up with what Adachi just said, like he’s trying to turn the gears with his bare hands.

Adachi sneaks a glance up at Kurosawa, and those feelings are all too clear on his face.

He looks like he doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. His eyes are wide, mouth half open, eyebrows up so high that Adachi is worried for a moment they’ll disappear into his hairline. He can’t help smiling at the sight, and that seems to snap Kurosawa back to his senses. He blinks rapidly, eyes flicking away for a moment as he composes himself. He’s blushing hard enough that the tips of his ears are red.

_‘Cute.’_

“Adachi, I…” Kurosawa starts, and he smiles nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck. Adachi doesn’t need to touch him to tell just how nervous he is.

“If you don’t want to…” Adachi starts, waving one of his hands lightly as his sentence trails off. As much as he knew Kurosawa didn’t want to push him into something he wasn’t comfortable with, Adachi wanted to treat him with the same courtesy. Adachi knew it would happen eventually, but he could wait a while longer if Kurosawa wanted to. They both wanted this relationship to last as long as possible, there was no need to rush it.

Kurosawa’s eyes snap back up to his and he waves his hands in front of his chest. “No, no, that’s not it, I—,” he stammers, then take in a deep breath, “I just… I thought you would want to take things slow.”

Adachi smiles softly and shrugs one of his shoulders. “I guess,” he murmurs, biting at his bottom lip, “But… I also… wouldn’t say no.” He feels like his face is on fire, but he keeps his eyes on Kurosawa so he can catch the moment it clicks in his mind. Adachi swears he can see steam pouring out of his ears.

There might as well be, because Kurosawa feels like he’s lost the ability to function properly. He’d fantasized about this many times, he’d fantasized about all of it, but now that it’s actually happening, and all in one night, he thinks he might blow a fuse. He really didn’t want to rush Adachi into anything, but Adachi was saying he wanted to. He already promised to spend the rest of his life with Kurosawa.

Kurosawa understood why Adachi had been afraid to lose his powers. It had completely broken his heart, but he understood. He only wished that Adachi had more confidence in himself, wished that he hadn’t come to rely on something like that so heavily, to the point that he felt nobody would trust him, confide in him, _like_ him if he no longer had his ability. He believed that Adachi knew what was best for himself. 

He couldn’t have been more happy that Adachi learned it was the wrong choice. Kurosawa was ready to try and move on, even if it took months or years, all he wanted was Adachi to be happy. That godforsaken magic had brought them together, broken their hearts, then built it all back up again.

And now here he is, Adachi, standing in front of him, trusting Kurosawa with the most intimate, personal parts of himself. He really feels like the luckiest guy in the world.

Tentatively, he takes the change of clothes from Adachi’s hands, who willingly lets him. The air is thick with anticipation and nerves, and Adachi is watching Kurosawa closely. Kurosawa has been craving this for so long, and he hopes Adachi is just as eager as he is.

Once the clothes are set back on top of the dresser to be retrieved later, Kurosawa gets back into Adachi’s personal space, and a little thrill goes down his spine when Adachi leans in closer rather than pulling away. A smile pulls at Kurosawa’s lips, and he flashes a lopsided grin.

“I won’t say no, either.”

Adachi bites his lip and smiles, glancing down bashfully, only for Kurosawa to press his knuckle under his chin and lift his gaze again. It makes Adachi’s smile falter, not because he’s nervous or afraid, but because it’s so tender that he feels like his brain has turned to mush. Well, he’s certainly still nervous, but there’s no way he’s going to ask Kurosawa to stop.

As if Kurosawa has read his mind, he smiles and drapes his other hand loosely around Adachi’s waist. “We’ll go slow,” he promises as he tickles his fingers under the hem of Adachi’s shirt. His skin is warm, and the light touch leaves Adachi’s skin tingling.

Adachi nods his head in response to Kurosawa, and lets himself be pushed back toward the bed. He jumps when the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, and lets himself bounce down onto the sheets. Kurosawa smiles down at him, and the way he bends over to keep their faces close has Adachi’s heart fluttering in his chest. He sighs contently when Kurosawa kisses him again, their eyes falling shut.

Kurosawa sits down beside him then and deepens the kiss, slowly moving his lips against Adachi’s, and they both feel like they’re in heaven. Kurosawa’s mind is screaming with words of love and adoration and affection, Adachi might just melt. He quickly catches on to the rhythm that Kurosawa is setting, moving his lips in time with his partner’s, and a pleased whimper bubbles up in Kurosawa’s throat.

 _‘So good,’_ he thinks, and Adachi shivers excitedly. He really had no idea what he was doing, but he was learning, and Kurosawa was drinking it up. _‘Lay down,’_ Kurosawa thinks, and it’s nice that he doesn’t have to stop kissing Adachi in order to set their plan in motion. He presses his fingertips gently to Adachi’s stomach, urging him to shimmy backward onto the comforter and fall back against the pillows, Kurosawa falling right with him.

Kurosawa props himself up on one elbow next to Adachi’s shoulder, while the other remains against his stomach. Adachi isn’t quite sure what to do with his hands, so he experimentally reaches up to wrap his arms around Kurosawa’s neck. He threads his fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck, toying with the short, shaved strands there, and smiles when Kurosawa sighs contently and the word _‘perfect’_ flashes in his mind.

As they make out, Kurosawa trails his fingers downward till they’re toying with the hem of Adachi’s shirt, and he can slip his fingers under the fabric. His stomach is fuzzy, evidence of a light happy trail leading up from his groin, and Kurosawa tries to suppress a moan.

Everyone was right, Kurosawa did have some experience in bed, but he believes it’s not as much as people think. Even still, right now he feels like it’s his first time. He’s so excited and so nervous, so happy that he gets to do this with Adachi, but nearly overwhelmed with it all. He’s already hard in his pants without even being touched, and while he doesn’t expect Adachi to have much stamina in this department, he sure won’t be one to boast.

Clearly picking up on his thoughts, Adachi lets out a snort of laughter, prompting Kurosawa to part their mouths.

“Sorry, sorry,” Adachi laughs, turning his head into the pillows, “I don’t mean to laugh, it’s just… we’re both a little overwhelmed, hm?”

Kurosawa blinks down at him, before finally cracking a smile. “Mm,” he hums in agreement, then leans down close enough to let the tip of his nose brush Adachi’s cheek. His partner hums pleasantly below him, turning his head to let their lips brush again.

“But… keep going,” Adachi whispers, and Kurosawa is eager to oblige.

Without another verbal word being exchanged, they each get their pants undone and shucked off onto the floor haphazardly. Their shirts follow closely thereafter, though Kurosawa insists on taking Adachi’s off for him. Mostly he wants to do it slowly, as if to tease himself, and watch Adachi squirm beneath him as he soaks in the sight of every new centimeter of bare skin. He knows that Adachi is reading his thoughts, and therefore can see that Kurosawa is thinking of touching all that skin with his lips.

When Kurosawa finally gets the shirt fully off and tossed onto the floor, he pauses and stares down at Adachi. He’s blushing all the way down to his chest, and it makes Kurosawa’s heart swell. He has no hair on his chest, but there is a very short happy trail between the band of his briefs and his belly button. Kurosawa thinks about how badly he wants run his tongue along that strip of skin, but Adachi very quickly grabs his attention.

Adachi has his hands tucked up over his chest, up near his chin, like he’s trying to hide all of his flustered embarrassment. 

“Y—you, too,” he says, and Kurosawa cocks his head and hums curiously. Adachi bites his lip and glances down. “Your shirt…”

“Oh,” Kurosawa gasps, and quickly grabs the bottom hem. Adachi is watching him so intently, a rare sight of unabashed desire in his heated gaze, and now it’s Kurosawa’s turn to squirm a little. He smiles shyly and slowly lifts his shirt up and off, tossing it onto the floor after Adachi’s, leaving them both in their underwear.

Immediately, Adachi’s eyes go wide. Kurosawa thought he was hard, but Adachi feels like he won’t last more than two seconds into fooling around with this man. Both men are likely around the same weight, but with Kurosawa’s slight height advantage, he looks much more lean and toned. The V of his hips is highly pronounced over the band of his boxers, and he has a small patch of wispy dark hair at the center of the chest. 

Adachi slowly sits up, just so he can get closer to Kurosawa, and he rests his hand lightly against his chest, right over his heart. Kurosawa’s heart is pounding, and he leans forward into Adachi’s touch till his palm is pressed flat to his pec. Adachi can’t stop staring into Kurosawa’s eyes, and Kurosawa stares right back.

_‘I love you, Adachi. I love you so much.’_

“I love you, too,” Adachi murmurs, and kisses his lover. 

They melt into each other, and Adachi lets his hands wander. He splays both his hands over Kurosawa’s chest, who gasps softly at the sensation. When Adachi experimentally rubs the pads of his thumbs over Kurosawa’s nipples, he gets a reaction he didn’t expect. 

Kurosawa’s breath hitches and he moans into Adachi’s mouth. It sends Adachi’s mind whirling, and he tweaks them again, getting another similar response.

_‘Good, good, good, so good.’_

Adachi is grateful that Kurosawa is letting him test the waters and get his bearings. He expected Kurosawa to immediately take charge, to tell Adachi what to do and how to do it, but he’s absolutely loving the way that Kurosawa is going pliant under his touches. Every time Adachi moves his hands, letting his fingertips roam across Kurosawa’s chest and stomach, the other man sighs pleasantly and leans up into the touch.

When Adachi’s hands dip lower, to the tip of his hips, to the band of his underwear, Kurosawa’s hips twitch eagerly. It’s both terrifying and exhilarating for Adachi, and he’s spurred on by Kurosawa’s pleas bouncing round in his mind.

Gingerly, Adachi hooks one of his fingers in the waistband of Kurosawa’s boxers. It makes Kurosawa gasp, and they part their lips. Adachi looks down between them and is almost embarrassed at how his mouth waters at the sight between them. They’re both pitching fabulous tents in their underwear, achingly hard and desperate to be touched. 

“Adachi,” Kurosawa rasps, and his hips twitch again, “Please…”

Adachi looks up at his lover’s face again, a moan of his own catching in his throat. Kurosawa’s eyes are barely open, he’s peeking through his lashes, and his jaw is slack as he pants out every breath. It all hits Adachi again that this man so desperately desires him, fell for him so hard, that he can barely contain himself. He notices then that Kurosawa’s hands are fisted in his sheets behind him as he props himself up, holding on so hard that his arms shake ever so slightly.

Adachi swallows loudly and curls his finger more in his waistband. “Show me,” he whispers, and Kurosawa takes in a shuddering breath.

They shift around enough that Kurosawa is laying on his back, and he gets his boxers down over his ass so that Adachi can hook his thumbs more deliberately and shimmy them down his thighs. When the head of his cock first peeks out, Adachi pauses and just stares. There’s a small bead of precome at the tip, and Adachi licks his lips. 

He can feel Kurosawa’s eyes on him, and he pushes his hips up into Adachi’s hands. It urges Adachi to continue, and he pulls the boxers down till Kurosawa’s cock springs free and bobs against his stomach. Adachi barely manages to untangle the underwear from his ankles, his hands are shaking so bad, but as intimidating as it may be, his desire far outweighs it. 

Once the boxers hit the floor, Adachi sits on his heels and just admires the image before him. Kurosawa’s blush spreads all the way to his ears and down his neck, and his gaze is a mixture of determination and helpless desperation. His cock isn’t any smaller or bigger than Adachi expected, and it sits handsomely against the dip of his hips. He tears his eyes away from Kurosawa’s groin when he reaches out to Adachi, resting a hand on his thigh.

“You, too,” he murmurs, mimicking Adachi from before, and glances pointedly down at his crotch.

Adachi blushes, and stammers as he nods his head. “Right—right, sorry, uh.” He fumbles with the hem of his briefs, but Kurosawa reaches out to stop him.

_‘Let me do it.’_

Adachi stops abruptly, then slowly nods his head. Kurosawa coaxes him into laying down beside him, so their stomachs are parallel, and rests his fingers against Adachi’s hips. He pauses, though, and just stares at Adachi. It makes his heart race, but Adachi stares right back. 

Kurosawa is always so sincere, and he’s becoming more and more honest around Adachi. Adachi wants to see more of that, wants to touch his heart even more. He loves Kurosawa so much.

“We can stop whenever you want to,” Kurosawa murmurs, and it almost catches Adachi off guard.

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to,” he assures, and Kurosawa smiles.

“But if you do,” he says, tugging ever so gently at his underwear, “You’ll tell me.”

“You worry too much,” Adachi mutters, and Kurosawa’s eyes crinkle at the corners.

“I just want to make sure,” he says, and he rubs the tip of his thumb along the outline of Adachi’s cock. It punches a gasp out of him, and he rolls his hips up into the touch. It makes Kurosawa grin, and he presses his palm against his clothed erection. “I want you to want this just as much as I do.”

Rather than answer verbally, Adachi surges forward and kisses Kurosawa again as he rolls his hips, trying to chase that delicious friction, and hopes that Kurosawa understands that he does want this just as much as he does.

Kurosawa receives the message loud and clear, and moans as he begins to make out with Adachi in earnest and yank his briefs down his waist. He only stops their kissing once Adachi helps him kick off the underwear onto the floor, and he looks down to admire Adachi in the nude. He’s a tad bit wider than Kurosawa, with handsome hips and thighs that frame his dick beautifully. And his cock, while slightly shorter than Kurosawa’s, is noticeably thicker in comparison. It makes Kurosawa’s mouth water. Above him, Adachi whines and rubs his thighs together, embarrassed but flattered that somebody would think about him that way.

“Adachi,” Kurosawa gasps as he looks back up at his lover’s face. Adachi is blushing like a maniac, and he half-covers his face with one hand in an attempt to hide his fluster. Suddenly being fully in the nude in front of Kurosawa, in front of one of the most attractive people he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing, he finds himself feeling extremely bashful. The only thing that keeps him from completely curling in on himself is all of the things that Kurosawa is thinking about him.

_‘So beautiful, so handsome. Adachi is so sexy, so cute. I want to touch him, I want to make him feel good. I want to show him just how beautiful he is.’_

Adachi whines, long and loud, and paws at Kurosawa’s stomach, his waist, his shoulders, anywhere he can reach to pull himself closer. “Please,” he whimpers, and Kurosawa’s hands shake when he grabs at Adachi’s waist. Adachi looks up at his lover, and he can see everything Kurosawa wants to do to him, how badly he wants to learn all of his sensitive spots, how he wants to have Adachi turn into a mess against his sheets and know he’s being well taken care of. “Please, do that to me,” Adachi breathes, and Kurosawa groans before pulling Adachi’s body against his and kissing him, firm and deep and eager to please.

They moan into each others mouths when their cocks press together, sending heat and sparks and _fire_ up through their bodies. Adachi has never thought about being on the receiving end of penetrative sex before, but feeling just how badly Kurosawa wants to take him apart like that, to be inside him, to _make love_ to him, has Adachi so wound up he feels like he’s going to burst. 

He catches Kurosawa wondering if he’s ever explored down there before on his own, and Adachi shakes his head minutely. It makes Kurosawa pull away, and he hums curiously as he looks at Adachi’s face. “You were wondering… I’ve never… I’ve never tried doing, uh, _that_ before,” he explains, and Adachi is almost afraid Kurosawa might pass out from the information.

Even so, it sets a new fire ablaze in Kurosawa’s belly. He tells Adachi to wait there, and begrudgingly pulls away to stand up and rifle through a box under his bed. He returns quickly with a small bottle of lube and a slightly dusty strip of condoms. Adachi looks at the objects with wide eyes, and it makes Kurosawa laugh.

“Would you like me to teach you?” he asks, keeping his voice low and soft. 

Adachi takes a few moments to reply, but Kurosawa is happy to wait as long as he needs to. Slowly, Adachi nods his head, and Kurosawa smiles again.

“It might feel a little strange at first,” Kurosawa explains as he nudges Adachi till he’s laying on his back. He touches Adachi’s thigh, prompting him to spread his legs. Kurosawa doesn’t settle between them right away, though. Instead, he lays on his side on Adachi’s right, putting him in the perfect position to finger Adachi and be close to his face. “But I promise, it does feel good,” he says with a grin, and Adachi just stares at him with wide eyes.

If he’s being honest, Adachi’s not sure why he never tried it. It’s not like he didn’t know he was attracted to men, or even that he didn’t know it was a source of pleasure, it just never occurred to him to experiment like that. Ultimately, he’s glad he never tried, because it feels right that Kurosawa is the one to teach him.

“The key to it is… you need to relax,” Kurosawa murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to Adachi’s jaw. It’s then that Adachi realizes he’s clenching his teeth, so he forces himself to relax his jaw with a low sigh. “Good,” Kurosawa praises, and Adachi barely bites back a smile, “We’ll go slow, and you’ll tell me if you want to stop, hm?”

Adachi huffs through his nose, then nods his head. “Yes, I will tell you,” he assures, just as he had before, and Kurosawa is pleased.

Kurosawa sets the lube and condoms on the pillow next to Adachi’s head for easy access, before gently pressing his palm against Adachi’s stomach. He flinches at the touch, but doesn’t tell him to stop. Kurosawa trails his hand downward, till his fingers are threading through Adachi’s pubic hair and the heel of his palm is brushing against his erection.

Adachi’s hips twitch and he gasps, and Kurosawa is already enraptured. Adachi squirms a little under his intense gaze, but any embarrassment flies out of the window when Kurosawa wraps his fingers delicately around his shaft and squeezes.

 _“Oh,_ Kurosawa,” Adachi moans, and gets the slightest bit of friction when he cants his hips up into Kurosawa’s fist. Kurosawa’s palm is soft, and his fingers wrap perfectly around his erection. It feels the same as when he does it, but also _completely different_ in the best possible way.

“Does it feel good, Adachi?” Kurosawa asks as he tugs out a few loose strokes, and Adachi frantically nods his head. He grabs at the sheets under himself, gripping tightly to keep himself grounded. Kurosawa is so focused on him, and begins doing things with his fingers that have Adachi’s head swimming with pleasure. He tosses his head back against the pillows when Kurosawa twists his wrist and rubs his thumb under the head of his cock, and his mouth falls open on an embarrassingly loud moan. 

If Kurosawa had one less thread of willpower, he’s sure he would’ve come all over the bed right then and there just listening to Adachi. He pulls out another few strokes, before twisting his wrist like so and pressing under the head of his dick again, tearing another wanton moan from Adachi’s throat. Adachi is the most beautiful sight Kurosawa has ever seen, and he wants to see even more of it.

He eases up on his strokes then, and admires how Adachi falls limp against the sheets and watches him through half-lidded eyes. Kurosawa grabs for the lube then, and Adachi follows. He shifts like he’s going to close his legs again, but Kurosawa pressed his palm to his thigh.

He doesn’t need to even say anything, because the moment their skin makes contact, Adachi relaxes. Again, Kurosawa is grateful for Adachi’s powers, because it means he completely understands that Kurosawa doesn’t want him to feel embarrassed or ashamed or overwhelmed. It’s all about Adachi right now, that’s what Kurosawa thinks. This night is about Adachi. It’s about them, together, right now and forever.

“Relax,” Kurosawa murmurs as he pops the cap and spreads a generous amount over his fingers. He rubs them together for a few moments, letting the substance get a little warm, and stretches up to kiss Adachi as he does so. _‘It’s okay to be nervous, but I promise I’m going to take care of you.’_

Adachi keens against his lips and melts into the sheets. He didn’t know what he expected, but Kurosawa might make him cry if he keeps this up. It’s all too much and completely perfect at the same time.

Gently, Kurosawa reaches between Adachi’s thighs. He shifts his hips slightly, tilting them up just enough that it gives Kurosawa easier access. Kurosawa hums appreciatively against his lips before slowly rubbing the lubed fingers against his entrance. Adachi flinches at the sensation, but quickly finds himself settling into it. Kurosawa murmurs words of praise against his lips, and when he isn’t speaking them out loud, they’re coming loud and clear into Adachi’s mind.

After a moment, Kurosawa lets the tip of his middle finger catch on the tight ring of muscle, and Adachi gasps. 

_‘I’ve got you, Adachi.’_

Adachi nods his head and grips even tighter at the sheets as Kurosawa slowly eases the tip of the digit inside of him. Like Kurosawa said, the intrusion does feel strange, and Adachi furrows his brow and loses his ability to focus on kissing Kurosawa.

“Okay?” Kurosawa asks as he pulls away a few centimeters to check in. He stills his hand, his middle finger pressed in just up to the first joint.

Adachi nods his head and opens his eyes enough to peer at Kurosawa through his lashes. “Yeah, just… weird,” he says, and Kurosawa smiles knowingly. It falters and his mind stutters to a halt when Adachi grinds his hips down, though, taking his finger in a little bit more. Adachi lets out a shaky breath, laced with arousal, and lifts his head to look at Kurosawa’s hand between his thighs. “But… please, keep… keep going.”

Kurosawa does as he’s told, and works the finger in slowly, gently thrusting it till he can get it in up to his knuckles. They both gasp at the feeling, and Adachi lets his head fall back against the pillows. Adachi feels so tight, which isn’t a surprise, and he’s hot and slick with the lube. When Adachi clenches down around his finger experimentally, it rips a soft moan from Kurosawa’s throat, and he looks up to see Adachi grinning at him.

It’s not unexpected, but being loopy with desire really makes Adachi’s walls come down. He revels in the way Kurosawa’s thoughts stammer and his cheeks shift to an impossibly dark shade of red when he squeezes down, and his dick twitches interestedly when he thinks about what’ll happen if he does that around Kurosawa’s cock.

Kurosawa can barely keep his head on straight, but Adachi urges him to continue, and he’s more than happy to do so. He works the one finger in for a while longer, curling it gently and pulling it out a few centimeters before pushing it back in. It leaves Adachi squirming against the sheets. He’s absolutely loving the way Adachi looks like this, and he wants to see more of it.

In an attempt to find his sweet spot, Kurosawa curls his finger and presses it against his inner walls. Adachi gasps at the feeling, but he can tell it’s not quite what he’s looking for. He presses his finger in deeper and rubs the pad of it in small circles. It makes Adachi’s hips twitch, and Kurosawa licks his lips at the sight. Once again, he curls his finger, pressing deliberately at any spot he can reach inside of him, searching for that little ball of nerves, the one that’ll make Adachi scream.

 _“Aah, there!”_ Adachi cries as he clenches down impossibly tight around his finger and arches his back near clean off the bed. One of his hands flies up to grab at Kurosawa’s hair, fisting it in the short, dark strands. It rips a moan out of Kurosawa’s throat in return, and he crooks his finger again in the same spot, right against his prostate. “Oh, _fuck,”_ Adachi moans. He rolls his hips up into Kurosawa’s hands, his toes curling and breath coming in sharp. _“Fuck,_ that feels good.”

Kurosawa beams up at Adachi, entirely too pleased with himself. “I told you,” he sing-songs, and Adachi lets out a breathy laugh and rolls his eyes. The teasing doesn’t last long, though, and Kurosawa sets back to work on his task.

As promised, he takes his time, giving Adachi ample room to get used to one finger before slowly inserting a second. The additional stretch makes Adachi moan, and his leg twitches every time Kurosawa scissors his fingers inside of him. Kurosawa’s touch is so gentle, so thorough, and Adachi makes a note to thank him profusely for being so patient once he gains the ability to form coherent thoughts again. 

Kurosawa’s thoughts are all determination and praise, occasionally intermingled with flashes of heated, unbridled desire. There’s many positions that Kurosawa wants to put him in, multiple of those with Adachi being the one to top, which makes Adachi moan hotly. For now, though, Kurosawa keeps settling on slotting himself between Adachi’s thighs as he is, on his back, his legs locked around his waist as he thrusts into him slowly and firmly, easing them higher and higher into bliss. It’s making Adachi twitchy, and after what feels like an hour of Kurosawa working him over with two fingers in his ass, he grabs at his wrist and begs him.

 _“Please,_ Kurosawa.”

“What is it?” he asks, keeping his fingers still inside of him. 

Adachi huffs at his response, and he wiggles his hips. It makes Kurosawa’s jaw go slack for a moment, but he quickly snaps his mouth shut and looks attentively to Adachi. He doesn’t say anything, though, so Adachi swallows his frustration and whispers, “Please… make love to me.”

Kurosawa’s mind goes blissfully blank, and he groans shakily as he scissors his fingers a few more times before gently pulling them out. Adachi whines at the sudden emptiness, but quits complaining the moment Kurosawa reaches for the strip of condoms and tears one out of its package. He watches closely as Kurosawa rolls it over his achingly hard cock, clenching his ass around nothing when it twitches excitedly at the brief moment of friction. A small puddle of precome has settled on the sheets at his hip, and Adachi moans at the sight.

“Adachi,” Kurosawa gasps, and when he touches him, he doesn’t need to ask his question before Adachi answers.

“I want you to. I don’t want to stop,” he says, reaching out to cup Kurosawa’s cheek in his hand. Kurosawa stares down at him with wide, adoring eyes. He leans into his touch, turning his head enough to press a kiss to the edge of his palm.

_‘I love you, Adachi. I love you so much.’_

“Show me how much you love me.”

Adachi doesn’t know where such words came from, but he’s glad he said them, because it rips a low moan from Kurosawa’s throat and he’s eagerly settling himself between Adachi’s legs. Just like Kurosawa had been imagining, Adachi locks his ankles against the small of his back, pressing their hips close together. 

Kurosawa takes a moment to rub the excess lube on his hands over his dick, and even grabs the bottle to spread a little bit more. _‘I don’t want Adachi to feel any pain.’_

Adachi smiles tenderly and takes the bottle from Kurosawa’s fingers to set it aside as he gets more settled above him. He takes a moment to just stare down at Adachi, raking his eyes from his face down his chest and settling where Kurosawa’s hips are pressed to the back of Adachi’s thighs. It makes Adachi feel flustered, but he now finds that he absolutely loves the way he’s affecting Kurosawa.

“Kurosawa?” he murmurs, and his lover’s eyes immediately snap up to his face again. Adachi giggles and bites his lip. He rolls his hips up, making both of their cocks rub against each other, and even though it’s light, it makes them both shake. “Please…” he whimpers, and Kurosawa nods his head.

His nerves are all too clear, and Adachi squeezes Kurosawa’s hips with his thighs. He so desperately wants to please Adachi that he seems to have forgotten he already has.

“You won’t hurt me, Kurosawa. I want this,” Adachi assures again, and it’s enough to get Kurosawa’s mind on track. 

He presses his lips into a firm line and nods his head again before looking back down to their laps. He shifts back, giving himself enough room to line up with Adachi’s asshole, and takes a deep breath before pushing forward.

Adachi’s eyes cross and he squeezes them shut as he tries to stay relaxed. It’s certainly more of a stretch than just two fingers, but not so much so that he can’t stand it. It feels good. It feels _really good._ Kurosawa takes his time, though, and Adachi is grateful for it. Every few seconds, he pauses his hips, letting Adachi get used to the stretch, and only keeps moving when Adachi wiggles his hips, silently begging for more.

It feels like forever, but when Kurosawa finally bottoms out inside of Adachi, they both let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding and Kurosawa slumps forward over Adachi.

He’s so tight and hot and warm and _Adachi._ Kurosawa can just tell he won’t last long at all, especially with how Adachi is whining and panting below him, but he wants to make sure Adachi feels good. He wants Adachi to come completely undone, to feel loved and cherished and not have a single care in the world. Kurosawa wants to take care of him, both right now, and for the rest of his life.

Now Adachi really feels like he’s going to cry, and he tosses an arm over his eyes to stop the tears from threatening to spill over. The motion startles Kurosawa, who furrows his brow and stares worriedly at his lover. 

“Adachi? Adachi, are you okay? Does it hurt?” he asks, and starts to pull out, but Adachi keeps him firmly in place with his legs and shakes his head.

“No, no, no, Kurosawa, no, please,” he chokes, voice thick with tears, and he takes in a shuddering breath.

“What is it?” Kurosawa presses, and gently pulls at Adachi’s arm.

Slowly, Adachi pulls his arm away, and it allows a rogue tear to streak down his cheek. It makes Kurosawa’s heart drop, but then Adachi smiles. Adachi smiles big and bright and oh, so beautiful.

 _‘What’s wrong?’_ Kurosawa thinks, but Adachi doesn’t respond. He takes in a few short breaths, composing himself, wiping his fingers furiously over his eyes to try and stop the tears of pure comfort and joy and love that are spilling out of him.

“It feels so good, Kurosawa. You make me feel so good,” he gasps, and reaches up to yank their lips together. It suddenly occurs to Adachi that he can no longer hear Kurosawa’s thoughts, only the blood roaring in his ears and their hearts pounding in their chests and the way Kurosawa gasps against his lips and sighs as he grinds his hips. It doesn’t matter anymore, though. Even if he can’t read his mind, Kurosawa is making it plain to see just how strongly he feels about Adachi.

Slow and steady, Kurosawa rolls his hips into Adachi as they kiss one another and moan into each others mouths. When he pulls his hips back, he bites at Adachi’s bottom lip before pressing back inside Adachi again, slow and firm and _perfect._ Adachi groans heartily and rolls his hips up to meet Kurosawa’s.

Kurosawa fills him up so perfectly. With every deep thrust, Adachi feels himself unwinding. He gasps when Kurosawa licks into his mouth as it falls open on a moan, and he grips tightly at Kurosawa’s shoulders. Every few thrusts, Kurosawa changes to grinding, firm and deep, inside of Adachi. It sets off sparks under his skin and his nerves tingle out to the tips of his toes as he claws at Kurosawa’s shoulder blades. He hopes his nails are blunt enough to not leave marks, but the way that Kurosawa shudders every time he does it indicates that he wouldn’t mind.

Kurosawa feels like his body is on fire every time he pushes as deep as he can into Adachi. It’s everything he could’ve imagined and more, and he feels so incredibly lucky to experience this with him. There’s no other person he’d rather spend this moment with, and nobody he’d rather spend the rest of his life with. Like Adachi, he suddenly feels like he’s going to cry.

He never wants this moment to end, and neither does Adachi, but they both find themselves falling dangerously close to the edge of climax.

They’re both gasping against one another, moving in perfect time as Kurosawa thrusts into Adachi. He’s able to keep up an even pace, not too fast and not too slow, but his focus is starting to wear thin. He reluctantly pulls his mouth away from Adachi’s and looks down between them to watch himself disappearing into his lover. It rips a wavering moan out of his throat, which Adachi mirrors when he follows his gaze.

“Adachi… feels so good,” Kurosawa slurs, then gasps when Adachi clenches around him involuntarily.

All Adachi can respond with is a garbled moan as Kurosawa grinds into him again, leaving his thighs shaking and his hands scrabbling for purchase against Kurosawa’s back.

“You look so beautiful,” Kurosawa continues, and Adachi whines again, spurring him on, “So good to me. You feel so good around my cock, taking me in so nice. So hot, so soft. Do you feel good? You sound so pretty when you moan like that. You’re so perfect, darling.”

 _“Yuichi!”_ Adachi moans, tossing his head back as he clenches so tight around Kurosawa that he can hardly move. Not that he could do more than just snap his hips into Adachi at the use of his first name, and he’s left gasping for air. His ears are ringing so loud that he almost misses Adachi’s voice when he says, “I love you, please, please, move. Feels so good, need more of you, need to come—.”

That’s all Kurosawa needs to hear, and he eases himself into moving once Adachi relaxes again, continuing with his firm, deep thrusts that are sending Adachi’s voice higher and higher. Kurosawa is so close to losing his cool, but he wants to get Adachi there first.

So, he balances himself on one hand and reaches between them with the other to wrap his fingers around Adachi’s cock. He’s dripping precome, and he makes the most blissed out sound that Kurosawa wishes he could record in his mind and keep there forever. The natural lubricant provides enough slickness that Kurosawa can stroke him in earnest, keeping it in time with his thrusts, and the way Adachi is twitching under him is hint enough that he’s on his last thread. Kurosawa leans down, pressing a kiss to Adachi’s lips, before resting their foreheads together so he can stare into Adachi’s eyes and watch as he unravels.

“Come for me, Kiyoshi.”

Adachi can barely keep his eyes open, and he gives in as that tight coil in his belly snaps and his vision goes white. Kurosawa feels so much bigger inside of him as he comes, and he keeps working him through it with shallow thrusts and perfectly timed fingers around his cock. He’s definitely crying again, but it’s only because he feels so _amazing._ He can feel Kurosawa’s eyes on him, and he opens his eyes enough to meet his gaze. 

Through his tears, he can see Kurosawa is staring down at him like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, and that’s probably exactly what he’s thinking. 

“Yuichi…” Adachi moans softly, and he clenches tight around his cock. Kurosawa’s brow furrows, eyes falling shut, and his hips stutter before he’s coming with his hips pressed flush against Adachi’s thighs. He moans long and low as he grinds into him, the arm keeping him upright shaking dangerously, and it’s the most beautiful sight Adachi has ever seen.

Once he’s spent, Kurosawa slumps forward till their chests are pressed together. They can feel each others hearts hammering in their chests, and it makes them smile through the exhaustion.

* * *

The bath is put to good use that night. Kurosawa spends ample time rubbing Adachi’s shoulders, and Adachi spends ample time sudsing shampoo through Kurosawa’s hair. Kurosawa has handsome red scratches across his shoulder blades, though he assures Adachi that they’ll fade in less than a day when he apologizes profusely. Adachi can already feel the stretch in his muscles from the new experience, so Kurosawa makes sure to offer lots of love and care to make up for it.

“You already love me so much, though,” Adachi says with a smile.

Kurosawa just laughs and presses a firm kiss to the top of Adachi’s damp hair.

“But I have even more love to give.”

**Author's Note:**

> new hyperfixation who dis. follow me on tumblr if u wanna see me cry in the tags of cherry magic gifsets @ reikunrei.tumblr.com
> 
> forgive me if there's any typos or mistakes, it's currently almost 2AM and i just really wanted to finish this, and i can only proofread so many times before my eyes go crossed lol


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